


Kibu's Dragon Age Fictober 2019 Collection

by Kibu



Series: Kibu's Fictober Challenge Collection [2]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fictober 2019, Fluff, Multi, One Shot Collection, Shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2020-11-28 17:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 18,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20970371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibu/pseuds/Kibu
Summary: A collection of short Dragon Age one-shots courtesy of the 2019 Fictober prompt list.





	1. Prompt #1: "It will be fun, trust me."

**Prompt:** 01\. It will be fun, trust me  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins  
**Characters/Pairings:** ZevWarden (Zevran Arainai and Kieris Mahariel)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
Zevran hadn't known what to expect on that first day, when he'd looked up into that unfamiliar and unflinching violet gaze. The fact that he was even alive had been a big shock to process. He had failed; he should be dead. Instead, the man who had been his mark had done the unthinkable: Kieris Mahariel had become a friend.  
  
It hadn't taken long for the unforeseen friendship to develop into something Zevran understood far better. A physical relationship was more his speed. No attachment, no pesky feelings... or so he thought. But somehow, over time, Kieris had slowly filled up a previously unnoticed void. He'd made himself irreplaceable.  
  
That was how Zevran found himself on a ship bound for Antiva, a Dalish elf at his side. He glanced over at Kieris and grinned, seeing how the other elf delighted in the sea breeze and the new land that had just begun to come into view.  
  
Kieris caught him looking and slid an arm around Zevran's waist, fetching up close against his side. "Are you excited?" he asked.  
  
"To show you my homeland, or to begin something terribly dangerous?" Zevran countered. He pushed Kieris' unruly dark hair back from his face, fingertips dancing over the vallaslin that marked his forehead. "Whatever we do, I have no doubt that it will be fun. Trust me."  
  
"With my life," Kieris agreed.


	2. Prompt #2: "Just follow me, I know the area."

**Prompt:** 02\. Just follow me, I know the area  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
The hart delicately picked its way through the underbrush, finding steady footing despite the path it followed being little more than a slightly less overgrown track beneath the tall trees. Without warning, Tamvir slid down from his place in the saddle and patted the animal's neck. "It's all right, I'll take it from here," he assured it, glancing up to where Dorian still sat perched on its back.  
  
The look of surprise on Dorian's face was positively comical even if he recovered quickly from Tam's departure. "Are we walking, then?" He asked, pursing his lips as he looked over the unending horizon of trees, rocks, and grasses.  
  
"I am," Tam affirmed. He moved to stand at the hart's head, one hand hanging lightly to a strap of the bridle to help guide. "You don't have to, of course. But this way you can just follow me. I know the area, even if it's been quite some time since I was last here." He looked over his shoulder at Dorian and gave a broad, brilliant grin that rivaled the sun filtering through the leaves. "There are so many things I'm looking forward to showing you!"


	3. Prompt #3: "Now? Now you listen to me?"

**Prompt:** 03\. Now? Now you listen to me?  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** (Implied FenHawke) Garrett Hawke, Carver Hawke  
**Warnings:** None  
  
He'd lost track of how many times he'd tried to change his brother's mind. Garrett Hawke, however, was stubborn to a fault and would cheerfully make stupid decisions as if they were logical. It drove Carver up the wall, especially when those stupid decisions somehow came out to an ending that was _good_.  
  
Muttering under his breath about family fortunes and good sense, he let himself into the Amell manor. Garrett's mabari, creatively named Dog, sprinted from his spot by the fireplace to roll at Carver's feet and beg for belly rubs. "All right, you old hound?" Carver asked with a grin. He knelt and stretched one gloved hand out to scratch and pat. He'd grown fonder of Dog since not having to live with him in close quarters. His breath still reeked, though.  
  
"Is someone there?"  
  
Carver rose at the sound of his brother's voice and followed it to the parlor, Dog trotting at his heels. "Just me, brother. Were you expecting someone?"  
  
"I-- no, no I suppose I wasn't." Garrett was far from the boisterous man Carver was used to. He sat in a chair by the fire, an uncorked bottle of wine at his elbow. There were no glasses.  
  
Carver frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gave the elder Hawke a critical once-over. "Now I know something's wrong, because usually you're a pretty good liar and right now you're shite. What's going on?"  
  
At first Garrett didn't respond, just blew out a breath and reached for the open bottle. After a pull and under Carver's unwavering stare, he finally relented. "It's Fenris."  
  
Carver rolled his eyes. "Of course it is."  
  
"Don't give me that; _you_ asked," Garrett replied. "He's, er... well, we're taking something of a break."  
  
"Wait-- were you two seeing each other?" Carver asked incredulously.  
  
Garrett's mouth flattened into a thin line hidden beneath his beard. "Carver," he said warningly.  
  
"I'm not saying there's anything bad about it! I'm just surprised, that's all." Carver moved to sit down opposite Garrett, dropping his hand to ruffle Dog's ears the way the mabari liked. "So why are you taking a break?"  
  
"I'd rather not get into it." Now Garrett was avoiding looking at him. This wasn't good.  
  
Carver knew full well that any time he made a suggestion, Garrett preferred to do the opposite. He'd been waiting for an opportunity to use some reverse psychology, and it was as good a time as any. "Well, sitting in here and drinking alone seems like a good choice after being dumped," he said, carefully keeping his voice neutral. "If I were you, I wouldn't talk to him about it at all. I'd just stay in here for a while. It's safer, and maybe if you wait long enough everyone will forget that you two were ever a thing so you won't have to face awkward questions."  
  
There was a long pause before Garrett nodded. "You're right. They'll likely move onto the next thing eventually."  
  
Slapping his forehead, Carver groaned. He buried his face in his hands. "Now? Now you listen to me? Come on, Garrett!" Lifting his head, he gave his brother his best scowl. "You've never been the type to go running away from a little trouble. Why start now?"  
  
Garrett looked morosely down at the bottle still in his hands. When he didn't answer, Carver stood up and walked to his side. He removed the bottle, maybe a third gone, from Garrett's hands and set it back on the table. "Alright. Let's do this properly. We're going to get you a bath and then get you dressed and then we're going out and I'm going to buy you a drink _outside_ the house. If you're going to get drunk, it should at least be among friends."


	4. Prompt #4: "I know you didn't ask for this."

**Prompt:** 04\. I know you didn't ask for this  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
There was nothing he could do. He understood the reasoning behind keeping it secret from him while he was away, but now he was here and being unable to _do anything_ was absolutely maddening.  
  
The mark on Tamvir's hand had always been finicky, but after the defeat of Corypheus and the rift being sealed it had seemed to bother Tam less. Apparently while Dorian had been back in Tevinter, dealing with all of those lovely local political scandals, the mark had surged up with a vengeance. Little tendrils of green light slowly pulsed from the palm of Tam's hand, snaking their way over his wrist - and Dorian was certain that they were growing.  
  
In the faint light that filtered in through the window of their borrowed suite, Dorian watched his beloved sleep. Tam twitched and made a small, pained noise that lanced straight through Dorian's heart. At least he was here now. At least he could comfort Tam in his sleep, murmuring some gentle shushing and softly kissing the top of his head. Tam sighed and settled in Dorian's embrace.  
  
"I know you didn't ask for this," Dorian murmured, his face still buried in the unruly, coppery mop of Tam's hair. "But you don't have to face it alone. I promise."


	5. Prompt #5: "I might just kiss you."

**Prompt:** 05\. I might just kiss you  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
If Garrett could only use one word to describe a journey from Skyhold down to the foot of the Frostback Mountains, it would be _cold_. Riding double with Fenris helped, of course, if only for the entirely innocent reasoning of shared body heat through their heavy gear. At least Fenris was more willing to consent to wearing shoes than some other elves.  
  
A particularly nasty blast of wind made Fenris flinch and instinctively take shelter against Garrett's chest. Garrett put a protective arm around him, curling himself more around the smaller figure to better block the blowing snow from both of their faces. The sturdy horse continued picking its way through the whiteness and following in the wake of their companions several yards ahead.  
  
"At least we won't have to camp up this high," Fenris said, his voice muffled. "I look forward to getting down to the Hinterlands."  
  
"It won't be too much longer," Garrett assured him. There was no need; Fenris was just as aware of how long the trip would be. But it felt like the right thing to say. "But I think I know something that might help."  
  
Garrett gently nudged Fenris back into facing properly forward, the reins in his gloved hands. Garrett kept leaning as he was, pulling Fenris's back up against his front and wrapping both arms around Fenris's body. Then he focused. His breathing became more even and he tugged on the wellspring of magic deep at his core.  
  
Fenris visibly relaxed as Garrett's body began to grow warmer. He wasn't unfamiliar with the trick, but every time Garrett did it Fenris found himself appreciating it as if it was new. "Keep doing that, and when we find ourselves somewhere more hospitable I might just kiss you."  
  
Chuckling, Garrett gave Fenris a little squeeze. "I think I can be bribed into keeping it up. Especially when you're offering something so good."


	6. Prompt #6: "Yes, I'm aware. Your point?"

**Prompt:** 06\. Yes, I'm aware. Your point?  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Dorian Pavus and Cole (Pavellan implied)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
"He misses you, you know."  
  
Dorian fumbled the book he'd just pulled from the shelf. He scrambled to catch it before it could smack on the stone floor, barely managing to recover it and still retain his balance. Straightening, he turned to face the one who'd spoken.  
  
"Can you _not_ do that, please?" Dorian asked, peeved. There'd been no reason to make his heart jump like that. His pulse still racing from the sudden spike of fight-or-flight, Dorian tried to settle in his favorite chair with the new book and ignore Cole.  
  
"But I'm not doing anything," Cole said, a baffled note rising in his voice.  
  
Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten. Talking to Cole could be incredibly frustrating, especially when one was already in an awkward place. It wasn't Cole's fault that he could read people like he could; it was just who and what Cole was. "Sneaking up on people, Cole. It's not very well appreciated."  
  
"But I wasn't trying to be sneaky. You didn't notice me because you were thinking about him. You're always thinking about him." Cole canted his head to the side, one wide blue eye becoming visible beneath the shadow of his ridiculous hat. "Why do you hurt yourself so much?"  
  
"Because sometimes things hurt, even if they're something you have to do. It's better in the long run." Dorian was starting to resign himself to not being able to read for a while. He had no desire to have this conversation, especially somewhere like the tower where sound carried so well, but it could be difficult to get Cole to leave when he latched onto something.  
  
"But why? You love him; he loves you. I don't understand." At Dorian's silence, Cole continued. "Eyes more green in this light. He's so embarrassed, so shy and fumbling, but--"  
  
"_Stop_!" Dorian hadn't meant to raise his voice, but the request came out as more of a shocked demand. "Stop," he repeated more coolly. "Please. Just stop."  
  
"But he loves you."  
  
"Yes, I'm aware. Your point?" Dorian didn't want to be having this conversation. He just wanted to read, and pretend to be normal, and continue smothering intrusive feelings under a layer of affected apathy and mild inebriation.  
  
Cole didn't answer immediately. Finally he lowered his head. "I'm sorry. I'll go."  
  
True to his word, Cole was gone almost immediately. Dorian reached for his wineglass with a shaking hand and downed the contents in a gulp.


	7. Prompt #7: "No, and that's final."

**Prompt:** 07\. No, and that's final  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** Garrett Hawke, Fenris, and Varric Tethras (FenHawke)  
**Warnings:** Dumb jokes about sex? I guess?  
  
It wasn't too surprising to find that Fenris had guests. Actually, it was rather heartening to hear the sounds of conversation upon entering the derelict house. Hawke closed the door quietly behind himself and just listened at first, identifying who was there.  
  
"Really?" Varric was laughing, his warm voice unmistakable. "You've told me some whoppers in the past, elf. I find it hard to believe that he _actually_ does that."  
  
"Why don't you ask him?" Fenris sounded as if he was in just as high of spirits. There was some rustling and then Fenris poked his head into the doorway of 'his' room. "Hello, Hawke."  
  
"Hi, Fenris." Somehow, even after years of knowing each other, Fenris's smile still gave Hawke butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't resist walking right up to Fenris and wrapping him in a bear hug. Halfway through a follow-up kiss, they were interrupted by the scratch of a pen on paper and Varric clearing his throat.  
  
"Not that I mind you giving me more material to work with, but it's starting to get a little uncomfortable." Varric just grinned at both of them as they parted. "Good timing though, Hawke. You can back up something Fenris was just telling me."  
  
Fenris snorted and returned to his seat. "Varric wanted to know about our sex lives."  
  
Hawke choked on his own spit, feeling like he'd suddenly swallowed his own tongue. "Excuse me?" he managed to gasp between coughs.  
  
After a quick check to make sure Hawke wasn't actually dying, Fenris leaned back and shrugged. "He needed to know for his book."  
  
"My readers would love to know all the sordid details about the Champion," Varric agreed, nodding, as if it was a perfectly normal topic of conversation. "Fenris here tells me that you, and I quote..." he glanced down at his scribbled notes. "Like to dress up in drag and call him Daddy?"  
  
Hawke's jaw dropped and he looked at Fenris, who nonchalantly took a sip from his glass. Fenris clearly found the fireplace _fascinating_. Varric was biting his lip against another round of laughter.  
  
"Do you have anything to add?" Varric asked innocently, managing somehow to keep his mirth in check.  
  
"No." Hawke shook his head. "You were told wrong, I--" He stopped suddenly. _Fenris_ had come up with the ridiculous falsehood. That alone was enough to prompt a smile to start tugging at the corner of Hawke's mouth. "I prefer it when he wears a nug costume."  
  
Laughter echoed through the mansion, filling it with the joyful sound. It took several minutes to get themselves all under control, especially to get to the point where just a glance would set off another round of giggles. Finally Varric pointed his pen at Fenris.  
  
"So I take it you're not going to give me the truth, are you?"  
  
Fenris snorted. "No. And that's final. But you're welcome to stay and we can open another bottle."  
  
"You know," Varric said, pretending to consider. "I think that's a pretty good tradeoff."


	8. Prompt #8: "Can you stay?" (nsfw)

**Prompt:** 08\. Can you stay?  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris)  
**Warnings:** Explicit sexual content  
  
The door to the Amell mansion swung open to bang into the wall with a resounding whack. Fumbling hands found it and gave it a shove back toward its proper placement, the closing slam earning not a single shred of attention from those who'd treated it so roughly. They were far too involved in each other, hands clenching in hair and pulling at clothes.  
  
Fenris pinned Hawke up against the furthest wall, a nimbus of pale blue light surrounding him. "I want you," he uttered, seizing Hawke's shirt at the collar and hauling him down into a scorching kiss that curled Hawke's toes in his boots.  
  
Hawke didn't bother with words. Instead he pushed back, going so far as to bodily lift Fenris. It was a familiar trip to the bedroom, Fenris's legs wrapped tight around Hawke's middle and his bottom brushing the front of Hawke's trousers with every step. By the time they reached the bed the air between them crackled with their intensity. It was only out of necessity that Hawke let Fenris go, practically throwing him onto the bed.  
  
They stripped in record time; more than once there was the telltale noise of fabric ripping, and at least two buttons pinged to the floor. Fenris had barely kicked his trousers off when Hawke clamored up with him and they picked right up again, hands seeking, mouths colliding, becoming completed wrapped up in each other's arms.  
  
Rolling Hawke onto his back, Fenris straddled him. "Hawke," he rasped, rising to his knees. "Remind me just how much I am yours."  
  
"Yes," Hawke replied breathlessly. He was going to say more, but Fenris's warm hand closing around his aching cock made the words melt into just an unintelligible moan.  
  
Fenris laughed softly but didn't stop, giving the hot, heavy length a few teasing strokes. "You have such a way with words--" he broke off with a strangled yelp, instantly bringing Hawke back to his senses.  
  
"What's wrong?!" Hawke exclaimed, hauling Fenris close to him and sitting up in the same movement.  
  
At the edge of the bed, Dog wiggled his whole body and let out a joyful little bark. Fenris groaned. "He licked my foot. It startled me."  
  
"Dog!" Hawke shouted, torn between laughter and the frustration of denial. "Out!"  
  
Ears lowering, Dog whined and turned away. Hawke and Fenris watched him go until he disappeared into the relative darkness of the hall.  
  
Hawke huffed a breath and grinned. "Well, that was... something. Shall we pick up where we left off?" He leaned in to kiss the side of Fenris's neck, getting a chuckle in response.  
  
"I think that could be arranged." Fenris planted his palms on Hawke's chest to push him down again and settle back into the spot he'd previously vacated. He was less inclined to tease, lowering himself down as Hawke entered him. Their mingled groans were ones of complicated relief; the simultaneous relaxation of knowing they would get what they both wanted and tension of ever-growing need.  
  
It was a position that gave Fenris no small amount of control. He took Hawke all the way down and waited, watching the emotions that crossed Hawke's face. "I love you." He couldn't have stopped the words if he'd wanted to, rising unbidden to fall from his lips.  
  
Hawke's expression softened into a warm smile and he reached up to take Fenris's hand. Twining their fingers, he said, "I love you, too. There's no-- _yeaugh_!"  
  
Twisting, Fenris saw Dog's head quickly vanish out of sight beneath the edge of the bed. Hawke muttered a line of expletives so ridiculous that Fenris couldn't help laughing. "I'll be right back," he promised. He was frustrated, too, and it took considerable effort to climb off Hawke and the bed.  
  
Dog slunk out of the room without needing to be told, but Fenris followed him into the hall. "Dog. I know you're very intelligent, and I don't doubt in the slightest that you know exactly what I'm saying - and what you've been doing." He shook his head. "But can you stay out here, please?"  
  
Whining, Dog sat down and his stub of a tail thumped the carpet. Fenris gave his ears a scritch before heading back into the bedroom and closing the door behind him.  
  
As soon as Fenris got back to the bed, Hawke pulled him down and didn't let any more delays get in the way.


	9. Prompt #9: "There is a certain taste to it."

**Prompt:** 09\. There is a certain taste to it  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Tamvir Lavellan and Cremisius Aclassi  
**Warnings:** None  
  
Early mornings were generally fairly quiet at Skyhold. Even if certain areas of the keep were bustling with activity, they were mostly contained into that specific area. It gave at least the illusion of peace in the early, misty hours before the sun fully cleared the horizon. That was one of Tamvir's favorite things; walking through the dew-touched grass of the garden while even the birds were just beginning to rouse.  
  
At first the kitchen staff had been annoyed at a nondescript, shy ginger elf coming into their territory every morning, but then they had learned exactly who he was. Not just his Inquisitor title, but his genuinely humble and appreciative attitude had charmed even the sternest of the cooks. Eventually they all knew him best by his first name, and there was always something small waiting for him when he let himself into the kitchen.  
  
"Good morning, Marguerite," Tam said cheerfully, picking up an apple as well as the hot, fresh from the oven blueberry muffin that sat in his designated place on the most out-of-the-way table. The pretty Orlesian kitchen maid was usually the first one to greet him. Today he realized that she was already in conversation, and with a familiar person at that. "Oh-- you're up early, Krem. Have the Chargers been assigned something?"  
  
Krem looked over his shoulder at Tam, his eyebrows lifting high on his forehead. "No, nothing of the sort. Nice of you to ask, though." He turned back to Marguerite and murmured something to her, causing the maid to blush and hurry back to her station and the dough rising there.  
  
"Wanna take a walk, Tam?" Krem offered.  
  
Tam nodded and led the way out. Compared to the sticky heat of the kitchen, the fresh air was a welcome chill. "It's going to be a nice day," he commented, aqua-colored eyes scanning the lightening sky.  
  
"It is," Krem agreed. They walked and ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Krem spoke again. "I have to admit, I'm surprised you're up and about this early. Most people can't manage something like that after a night of drinks with the Chief."  
  
Tam's cheeks and ears grew hot. He delayed the inevitable answer for a few more seconds while he licked crumbs off his fingers. "I... er. I wasn't drinking nearly as much as he was. Or as much as you all thought I was," he finally admitted. "I couldn't handle the way that awful stuff burned!"  
  
Krem gave a whoop of laughter, one arm around his stomach. "I knew it! I knew there was no way you could've handled that much of that piss he likes so much."  
  
"It's awful." Tam wrinkled his nose at the memory. "It burns like acid, and there's a certain taste to it..." There was nothing to even compare the flavor to, leaving Tam to trail off. His appreciation - or lack thereof - for the drink had certainly not been helped by his gradual introduction to Dorian's expensive taste in alcohol.  
  
"Kinda like someone took a wet fart into your open mouth?" Krem supplied.  
  
Tam stopped short and looked at Krem, eyes narrowing as his ears pinned back sharply. "I do not want to know how you know what that tastes like, and no that is not an invitation for you to tell me anyway."  
  
Laughing again, Krem swung an arm around Tam's shoulders and steered him back onto their previous path. "Well, y'see, it all started one night when the Chief decided to make these weird fish pies..."


	10. Prompt #10: "Listen, I can't explain it, you'll have to trust me."

**Prompt:** 10\. Listen, I can't explain it, you'll have to trust me  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins/Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** Kieris Mahariel and Merrill  
**Warnings:** None  
  
"This is my front door," Merrill was saying as she let them into her little house in Kirkwall's alienage. It was more of a hovel, really, but she seemed pleased with it. "And this is my front room, in my house, with all my things." She paced ahead of the elf who accompanied her and spun around with her arms akimbo to gesture to the entirety of the small space.  
  
As Kieris shut and locked the door behind them, Merrill clasped her hands behind her back and leaned toward him slightly. Her excitement was palpable. "Well?" she asked. "What do you think?"  
  
"It's..." Kieris hesitated, looking around and grasping for something nice to say at the same time. "You've really made it your own," he finally said. It was true; Merrill had really put her stamp on the place, from a multitude of potted plants to wooden halla statuettes and other bits of decor. "So what was it that you wanted to show me?"  
  
Kieris didn't have long to spend in Kirkwall. He'd really meant to only be passing through the city, but running into his clan-sister in the streets had been too much of a coincidence to not stop and catch up a little bit. Unfortunately he still didn't have a large amount of time to dawdle, and if she hadn't insisted that she had something at her home that Kieris 'needed to see' they would have parted ways significantly earlier.  
  
"Oh, yes!" Merrill grabbed Kieris's hand and pulled him to the tiny room just off the main one. "I know you of all people should be able to appreciate what I'm working on." She left him in the doorway and bounded over to a tall, cloth-covered object. Pulling the stained piece of fabric away, she gestured with pride toward the ornately carved mirror. "Tada!"  
  
Kieris, to his credit, didn't bolt from the room. He did, however, backpedal several involuntary steps as his mouth dropped open. "Where did you find that?" he asked through numb lips. "Why do you have it here? Merrill, _what are you doing_??" His voice rose until it cracked, fear outweighing the initial shock.  
  
"What? What's wrong?" Merrill's smile fell. She watched Kieris in confusion. "I've put it back together! Isn't that exciting?"  
  
"Merrill," Kieris said too-calmly. "Merrill, that mirror is the reason why I'm... this." He gestured helplessly to himself. Without the distinctive blue and silver armor of the Grey Wardens, he looked just like anyone else. But it was the first example that sprang to mind. "I nearly died. And Tamlen-- Tamlen _did_." But first he'd suffered horrifically. Kieris kept that to himself. "Why is it here, Merrill?"  
  
"Because it needs to be! I'm restoring it. I'm fixing it. I can cleanse it." Merrill wrung her hands together, looking from Kieris to the mirror and back again. "Listen, Kieris. I can't explain everything about it, but you have to trust me. I know what I'm doing."  
  
Shaking his head, Kieris took a few more steps back. "No, Merrill. I... I have to go. It was good to see you again. Destroy that thing before it takes you, too." He swallowed the bile that rose in the back of his throat and left as quickly as he could without running for it. Just being in the same vicinity was too much to bear.


	11. Prompt #11: "It's not always like this."

**Prompt:** 11\. It's not always like this  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris)  
**Warnings:** None really. Some nekkid?  
  
"Hawke--"  
  
"Fenris, wait! Don't go. It's not always like this, I swear."  
  
There was a pair of soft thuds as Fenris's feet hit the carpet and he resolutely began retrieving his clothing. It was a more difficult task than initially thought, given how his clothes and Hawke's had been tossed around without care earlier.  
  
The door to the bedroom stood halfway open despite having been firmly closed behind them. The opener of said door was happily flopped in the very center of the large bed, wiggling around on his back and begging for belly rubs. Dog was too smart for anyone's good.  
  
"Dog, honestly. You have got to be doing this on purpose," Hawke grumbled. Dog barked happily and licked the side of his master's face, causing the slimed parts of Hawke's beard and hair to stand up at strange angles. Hawke grimaced and slid out of the mostly-occupied bed in order to follow Fenris.  
  
"Please wait, Fenris. Don't go just because that big idiot thinks he owns every stick of furniture." Hawke curled his arms around Fenris's waist from behind him, pulling the still-nude elf in close to him. "Stay. Please?"  
  
Fenris leaned into Hawke, fitting easily against him. "As long as Dog stays off the bed."  
  
Dog gave another bark and scrambled to his feet. He sprang from the bed and sat in front of the fireplace, sitting up as straight and sturdy as a Fereldan statue. "You're the worst," Hawke told him without heat.  
  
"He takes after his owner," Fenris agreed with a smirk, turning in Hawke's arms in order to bring him down into a kiss.


	12. Prompt #12: "What if I don't see it?"

**Prompt:** 12\. What if I don't see it?  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
They were all staring at him. They wanted him to make a decision, to bring down justice on the head of another. The seat of the Inquisitorial throne - an actual throne! - was hard and unyielding and uncomfortable, but Tamvir resisted the urge to squirm. A trickle of sweat crawled its way down the back of Tam's neck and under the collar of his fancy tunic. Everyone was watching, waiting, anticipating.  
  
Before the prisoner could be brought in, Tam signaled to Josephine and got her grudging permission. He managed to keep up the facade of being poised until he was safely out of sight. Then, in the blessedly cool corridor leading to the undercroft, he dropped immediately into a crouch and covered his face with his hands. He struggled to keep himself at least partly under control.  
  
Tam heard the sound of the door he'd just passed through open and close, and his breath began to come too fast again. "I-I'm sorry, Josephine," he said without looking up. "I'll be alright in just a moment, I promise. I just... I only need a moment. I'll be alright."  
  
Footsteps approached and stopped beside Tam. Then strong hands gently pried Tam's away from his face. "Josephine says to take your time to collect yourself, and then we're to meet her and the others in the war room," Dorian explained. He kept Tam's hands in his, thumbs running back and forth over Tam's knuckles.  
  
"I ruined it." Tam's ears had already been low, but they dipped even further. "I shouldn't be doing this. Dorian, you know as well as I do that I'm the worst possible person to be in this position."  
  
"Actually, I think you're exactly where you're supposed to be," Dorian replied with the smallest uptick of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He lifted one of Tam's hands to his lips and pressed a kiss into his palm. "One tiny hiccup doesn't mean you're doing something wrong. You've shown time and again that you're far stronger than you give yourself credit. I hope one day you can see that as clearly as I do."  
  
"What if I never see it?" Tam asked, bright eyes searching Dorian's face.  
  
Dorian smiled. "Then I'll continue to point it out to you, for as long as you're willing to keep me around."


	13. Prompt #13: "I never knew it could be this way."

**Prompt:** 13\. I never knew it could be this way  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins/Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Tamvir Lavellan and Kieris Mahariel  
**Warnings:** None  
  
Upon familiarizing himself with Skyhold, Kieris had quickly discovered that Tamvir was not a difficult person to find if you only knew a few key pieces of information. The most important tidbit was that Tam was Dalish and had the skill set of a scout. Just knowing that, it was easy to do a quick sweep of likely places.  
  
"You really like it up here, don't you?" Kieris asked, sitting down beside the other elf and offering him one of the apples Kieris had lifted from the kitchen. Especially when the sun was setting, creating an incredible display over the surrounding mountain peaks, Tam could be found in high places. The rooftops that surrounded the herb garden were a comfortable place to sit and watch the sky.  
  
Warm tones from the sinking sun caught Tam's coppery hair and lit it like a beacon as he turned to Kieris. "I do," he agreed, accepting the apple and just cradling it between his hands. "Thank you for not sneaking up on me. I'd rather not take a tumble."  
  
Kieris grinned. "Yeah, I figured it would be better if I didn't startle you too much. That sister of yours would rip me a new one."  
  
Sighing, Tam nodded. "She probably would. Not that I could blame her in that case, though. I'd have a few strong words, myself." A grin to answer Kieris's flickered brielfy on his face before disappearing. "But, in response to your question, yes. I do like it up here. Not many people think to look up."  
  
"Yeah, I've noticed that too. City-dwellers especially don't look up nearly as much as any self-respecting member of my old clan did." Kieris took a big bite out of apple he'd kept to himself and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Must be useful though, with all the visitors that come here running around hoping to get a glimpse of the famous Inquisitor." He nudged Tam with his shoulder, causing the other to push back.  
  
"I'm not used to the attention," Tam admitted. "I never knew it could be this way, you know? People knowing who you are and actively seeking you out like you're some sort of novelty. Like you're an object instead of a person. They don't want to see _you_, they want to see the _thing_ they think you are. It's like they're collecting something they can use for their own personal gain somehow."  
  
It was remarkable, really, when Kieris thought about the similarities between himself and Tam. They'd both been abruptly caught up in something they'd never asked for or wanted, and had to blindly stagger in the direction they assumed was the right one and hope that the outcome was the best one possible. "Tell me about it," he finally said. "Why do you think I tend to go as incognito as possible? Bad enough I've been branded with the whole 'Hero of Ferelden' nonsense, and there's this awful statue in Denerim... but hey, when you think about it, it could really be a lot worse."  
  
"Oh?" Tam asked, looking back to Kieris with obvious interest.  
  
"Yeah. One of my best friends ended up having to get crowned king." Kieris chuckled. He couldn't keep the guilt from creeping into his voice. He hadn't known enough about human politics to get Alistair out of that fate, and while on one hand he knew it wasn't his fault, on the other hand he still felt guilty when he thought about how frustrating and tedious it must be. "You and me, once all the shit stops hitting the fan, we can fade out of the public eye and try to blend in. Him, though... he's stuck with it."  
  
For a moment Tam hesitated, turning his still-untouched apple over in his hands. "Do you think... I know this is silly, but what do you think about inviting King Alistair here? Maybe that would allow the two of you to catch up and escape from that for a while?"  
  
Rather than coming back with some remark, Kieris paused and thought about it. Eventually he nodded. "You know, that could work. That's actually a pretty good idea!"  
  
"I do have them on occasion," Tam said with a grin.


	14. Prompt #14: "I can't come back."

**Prompt:** 14\. I can't come back  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
Fenris was dreaming. He knew that as a simple fact, with none of the second-guessing or need for pinching to prove it. One moment he'd been lying down, his head on the pillow and filled with thoughts and worries, the next moment he was walking through a field of waist-high crops of some kind. He wasn't sure what the plants were, but they were green and thriving in even rows. The field was large and well-tended, and not too far away Fenris could see houses and buildings that indicated a small village. A farming town, probably, judging by the fields and the windmill.  
  
In the way of dreams, Fenris knew that someone else was there. He knew that when he turned around, they would be standing right there behind him. He also knew exactly who it would be, and he bit his lip against a cry of frustration and anguish.  
  
"Fenris."  
  
That voice. Deep and warm and familiar, and so desperately, desperately wanted. Fenris turned, the movement almost involuntary in response to that voice.  
  
"Hawke." Fenris crossed the space in an instant, throwing himself into Hawke's arms and locking his legs around his waist. He was caught with only the smallest grunt of effort, Hawke's arms closing around him and holding him close. "Where are you?" Fenris asked, the words muffled from being buried in Hawke's chest.  
  
"I'm here, Fenris," Hawke replied. He nuzzled his face into Fenris's hair and kissed the top of his head. "Here. In your dreams. In... actually my dreams, I think. Unless you've been to Lothering before the Blight?"  
  
"In your dreams?" Fenris echoed, lifting his head to meet Hawke's whiskey-brown eyes. "What do you mean, you're 'in your dreams'?"  
  
"We're both in my dreams, right now," Hawke explained. He gestured toward the town with a nod of his head. "This is Lothering, where I grew up. And this is a dream. I, er..." He took a breath and Fenris steeled himself. "I'm in the Fade, Fenris. That's how I'm doing this so that I can see you. I can't quite believe it actually worked."  
  
Fenris unhooked his ankles and managed without words to get Hawke to put him down. The dirt under his bare feet felt so real even though he knew it wasn't. "You're in the Fade. Alright. We've been in the Fade before, though I can't say the experience was one I ever wished to repeat. Does that mean it was just convenient for you to come see me like this?"  
  
He wished Hawke didn't look so sad. When Hawke looked like that, something had to be very wrong. It followed the lines of Fenris's worries so much that it made bile rise in the back of Fenris's throat. "Hawke. What's going on? What's wrong?"  
  
He saw it, then. When Hawke met Fenris's eyes again, twin trickles of tears tracked down his cheeks to vanish into his beard. "I can't come back, Fenris. I'm sorry."  
  
It felt like a hundred emotions slammed into Fenris's chest like a sledgehammer. Disbelief, anger, shock, fear, grief, and others fought a war inside the gaping wound that had suddenly opened. He could tell by Hawke's expression that he wore his anguish on his face. "You _can_ come back, Hawke," he said, the emotions crystallizing into a diamond of fiercely stubborn determination. "I'm not letting you go without a fight."


	15. Prompt #15: "That's what I'm talking about!"

**Prompt:** 15\. That's what I'm talking about!  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** Garrett Hawke and Carver Hawke  
**Warnings:** None  
  
Trekking all the way out to the Anderfels had been something Hawke wanted to put off for as long as possible. It wasn't that he didn't want to find out what was going on with the Wardens; he very much did. He had a vested interest in what was happening with the Wardens.  
  
Unfortunately, that vested interest was standing directly in front of him in the middle of the courtyard of Skyhold.  
  
"Did you really think I wouldn't follow you, Garrett?" Carver demanded, closing the last bit of distance in order to get in his brother's face. He had to bend slightly, reminding Hawke that even if Carver was his _younger_ brother, he hadn't been his _little_ brother in years.  
  
"I'd hope you wouldn't," Hawke replied honestly. "I'd hoped Aveline would sit on you until you complied. Where is she, anyway?" When he'd last spoken with Aveline, she'd promised to help get Carver well away from Orlais and hopefully avoid whatever strange happenings were affecting the rest of the Grey Wardens. Clearly she hadn't been able to do that.  
  
"She's back home with her family. I'm a big boy, Garrett - I don't need a babysitter. You're the only one that sees a crisis of world-ending proportions and has to run off to go get involved in it." Carver's words stung, but they didn't carry the heat that they would have in years past. "She did tell me where to find you, though. That's why I'm here. I want a piece of Corypheus too."  
  
Hawke sighed and ran a hand over his face and into his hair. "I don't blame you for that, considering... well, everything. But I had wished to keep you safe and out of this."  
  
"Garrett. I'm a Grey Warden. There's nothing in the world that's going to keep me 'safe' and 'out' of things." Carver's mouth quirked up in a grin, so similar to Hawke's own but significantly more rare to see. "I know you want to protect me. It's annoying, but it's kind of sweet at the same time. But it's about time you cut it out."  
  
Carver had grown so much since fleeing from Lothering. Some parts of it were obvious, like his height and how much more muscle he'd gained. Other parts were harder to see, especially as someone who'd spent the entirety of his life trying to protect his younger siblings. After losing their father, Hawke had been even more desperate to hold his family together. He'd failed so badly.  
  
"Carver, I--" Hawke began. He shut his mouth with a snap, nearly biting the tip of his tongue. With a heavy sigh, he nodded. "You're right. I can't keep treating you like an angsty teenager."  
  
"Thank the Maker," Carver said, relieved. "That's exactly what I'm talking about."  
  
The hug was awkward at first, and truthfully Hawke wasn't sure which of them had initiated it. But he held his not-so-little brother close until he felt Carver squirm. Then Hawke gave him a squeeze for good measure and let go. "All right, then. How about we get a drink? And if you're so big and adult now, I think you can buy us the first round."


	16. Prompt #16: "Listen. No, really listen."

**Prompt:** 16\. Listen. No, really listen  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Tamvir Lavellan (Pavellan implied)  
**Warnings:** Some (typical) light Orlesian racism  
  
It may have been exhausting and ultimately painful spending the majority of the afternoon in fight training with Zevran and Kieris, but Tamvir would take it over a spending that same amount of time cooped up in meetings any day. It wasn't something he could always get away with, but it was worth the scrapes and bruises. Climbing the tower up to his quarters made his tired legs burn, but he reminded himself of the bath and private meal that would be waiting. Those simple prospects were enough to add a little spring to his step.  
  
Finally reaching the final door that led into his actual room, Tam pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes - and froze with the door opened only a few inches. He could hear voices coming from inside the room. They weren't voices he recognized, though he certainly recognized their accent. Orlesians.  
  
"Can you believe the extravagance of such windows? Clearly the Inquisition places great importance on their Inquisitor being kept in luxury," a woman was saying. "Even if he is only a rabbit, you could do far worse than to marry someone with such standing."  
  
Maybe it was the vile words she was saying, or maybe it was her tone dripping with disdain, but something snapped in Tam and he grit his teeth. He swung the door open wide in order to pass through it, doing nothing to attempt to be stealthy. This was _his_ private space that was not open to the public, and whoever these people were, he had certainly not invited them to enter, nor did he wish for their unsolicited and disgusting opinions.  
  
"Ah, the Inquisitor!" The woman who had spoken saw Tam first, sinking into a deep curtsy. There was a second, younger woman with her, who quickly followed the older woman's lead. "How delightful to have such an opportunity to meet with you in person."  
  
"Is it?" Tam asked, inwardly flinching at his own cold tone. "Because I find myself feeling the very opposite."  
  
"Oh _maman_, he's much handsomer than the rumors have said!" The younger woman proclaimed, producing a fan and using it to hide her face. "To think that such a young man has done so many amazing things. Why, I would love to hear some of the tales from your own lovely lips, Inquisitor. Won't you sit and tell them to me over tea?"  
  
She was a pretty young maid, all fair skin and big blue eyes and bouncing blonde curls. It wasn't her fault that the presence of her and her mother made Tam's stomach churn. At the same time, he had difficulty believing that someone could be so featherbrained as to not realize when they were being as entitled and rude as these two were.  
  
"No, I'd really rather not," Tam replied. He looked each of them square in the eyes in turn as he moved to stand behind his desk. The mother stared back, but the young woman blushed and averted her gaze. "This isn't a room for visitors, and I'd like you both to leave immediately. I'll give you the opportunity to leave quietly right now, but if you choose to remain I'll be forced to have you removed in a very noisy and public manner."  
  
The younger woman sank gracefully down onto the sofa by the stairs, her big eyes wide with surprise. The older woman's chin lifted and somehow her already perfect posture became even more upright. "Young man, do you _know_ who I am?"  
  
"No," Tam replied bluntly. He was beyond caring. He just wanted to be alone. It was a simple matter to press the hidden switch beneath the desk top and trigger an alarm downstairs. "And quite frankly I don't care. I want you to listen." He lifted a hand as the older woman opened her mouth to speak again. "No, really listen. I've had a very long and tiring day and I don't have the patience to deal with yet another person who seems to think that just because I have this title _that I never wanted_, I'm suddenly some sort of prize for the Orlesian nobility to fight over and throw their daughters at."  
  
By this point, the daughter looked positively scandalized. The mother's face was reddening in a way that warned of an impending explosion. "Young man--"  
  
"Inquisitor Lavellan," Tam corrected, biting off each of his consonants. "Who is very happily secured in a relationship with a wonderful man from Tevinter, and has not a single shred of interest in yours or anyone else's daughter." Tam looked away from the women to the door, which opened to admit a familiar and much-needed armored figure. "Now, will my Commander be escorting you quietly or shall you make a scene for everyone waiting in the Grand Hall?"  
  
As the ladies were ushered out by Cullen - the mother flouncing, the daughter meek - Tam sank down into his chair and let out every bit of air from his lungs. It took a moment before he started shaking with reaction and then had to reach for the wastebasket to be sick.


	17. Prompt #17: "There is just something about them/her/him."

**Prompt:** 17\. There is just something about them/her/him  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** Carver Hawke and Bethany Hawke (Carver/Merrill, Bethany/Sebastian)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
He found his sister pining - there was no other word to describe it. Bethany was sitting at a table in The Hanged Man, her index finger tracing designs on the rough wood with the slop-over from her mostly untouched tankard. Rolling his eyes, Carver sat down on the bench opposite her.  
  
"You're not going all calf-eyed over that Chantry guy again, are you?" He asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
Bethany looked up at him and frowned. "He has a name, you know. A perfectly nice, solid, entirely handsome, distressingly good-sounding in a Starkhaven accent name." Even though she'd gotten a little dreamy in the middle, her expression hardened again as if daring Carver to disagree.  
  
"How can someone have a handsome name?" He dared. "You're being weird, Bethany."  
  
"I'm not being weird. You're the one spouting off about mages whilst simultaneously unable to keep your eyes off one. Not that I can blame you; she's adorable." Carver might be acting a tit, but Bethany couldn't entirely fault his taste.  
  
Carver squared his chin mulishly, ready to argue. But Bethany had knocked him off balance and the expression faltered. "There's just something about her. She's so sweet, so... innocent, really. I just want to protect her."  
  
Bethany scoffed and picked up her tankard for a drink. "She's also a user of blood magic, you know. Don't forget that little detail."  
  
"I haven't," Carver insisted. He had, actually. He knew that Merrill had resorted to blood magic on more than one occasion, and it didn't sit well in the pit of his stomach, but it was easy to forget whenever she turned one of her bright smiles his direction. She didn't act like the blood mages they'd seen other places.  
  
Bethany pursed her lips as if to say something more, but took another drink instead and then offered it to Carver. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter in the long run, does it? They'd never be interested in us. Just a pair of lonely Grey Wardens, off fighting darkspawn and other lovely things like that."  
  
"At least we have each other," Carver agreed and downed the rest of the shared ale.


	18. Prompt #18: "Secrets? I love secrets."

**Prompt:** 18\. Secrets? I love secrets  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Varric Tethras and Cassandra Pentaghast  
**Warnings:** None  
  
It may have been a legitimate sixth sense, or it could have just been coincidence that Cassandra _knew_ whenever Varric entered whatever room she happened to be reading in. Maybe it was the sound of his breathing. Maybe it was a shadow cast by his copious amount of chest hair. But even ensconced as she was in a cozy chair in front of the fireplace, the tell-tale prickle ran up the back of her neck and she quickly snapped her book shut.  
  
"What are _you_ doing here?" she hissed, tucking her feet further under her lap blanket.  
  
"Easy there, Seeker. I'm here to see Ruffles, not you." Despite his words, Varric walked over to the fireplace and stood beside it, watching Cassandra. "Do you know where she is?"  
  
"Yes," Cassandra replied. "And it's not any of your business."  
  
Varric laughed. He had such a nice laugh, rich and rolling. It was a pity that the rest of him was so... him. "Are you two keeping secrets? I love secrets." He hauled the other chair closer and invited himself to sit even with Cassandra's best scowl leveled on him.  
  
"I thought you were here to see Josephine," Cassandra prompted. "Why stay if she isn't here?"  
  
"What? I'm not allowed to be sociable now?" Varric produced a notebook and pen from somewhere on his person. "Ruffles wouldn't mind if I hang around to wait for her. I've got something to tell her that she's going to want to hear."  
  
Cassandra put her book down in order to glare better. "Is it really so important that you can't simply leave her a note? Clearly you have everything you need to do so."  
  
"Nahh, notes are so impersonal! You know me; I just love giving everything that personal touch." Varric's voice was accompanied by the scratching of his pen.  
  
The tension in Cassandra's shoulders held them halfway up to her ears, but she reluctantly went back to reading. Every couple of paragraphs she glanced over at Varric, just waiting for him to do something else. But aside from him meeting her eyes once in a while and smirking, nothing happened. The only sounds in the room were the crackle of the fire, the scratching of the pen, and the occasional turning of pages.  
  
Eventually Varric closed his notebook and tucked it away again. It had been long enough that Cassandra actually jumped, having somehow forgotten that he was even there. Judging by the level of the candles, it had to have been more than an hour.  
  
Varric stood up and popped several vertebrae in his back before dragging the chair he'd been occupying back to its proper place. "We should do this again sometime, Seeker," he said cheerfully.  
  
"What do you mean, Varric?" Cassandra asked, suspicion surging back to her with a vengeance. "What are you doing now?"  
  
"Me? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Give my regards to Ruffles when you see her, won't you?" Varric had the audacity to pat Cassandra's free hand that was sitting on the arm of her chair. She pulled her hand back as if burned, too dumbfounded to say anything as he left the room. Only once he was gone, leaving no note despite his earlier insistence that what he needed was important, did Cassandra's eyebrows lift in surprise.  
  
"Was he just messing with me... in order to be companionable?" she asked aloud, utterly baffled.


	19. Prompt #19: "Yes, I admit it, you were right."

**Prompt:** 19\. Yes, I admit it, you were right  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** Varric Tethras and Fenris (FenHawke implied)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
Playing cards with Varric had a tendency to go poorly. Fenris did win on occasion, much to Varric's amusement, but more often than not he found himself a few sovereigns lighter after a night in the dwarf's company. Sometimes they made the stakes a little higher, but it was always a wager that both were willing to uphold should they be the loser of that match.  
  
That was how Fenris found himself with a nothing hand laid out on the table and an expectant Varric leaning forward on his elbows. "I'm waiting, elf."  
  
Fenris frowned and picked up one of the cards, tapping it lightly on the tabletop. "Yes, I admit it," he finally said with a sigh. "You were right. Your portrayal of Hawke's and my... relationship... in your book was frighteningly accurate. Enough that I wonder if you don't have stilts built into your boots and a habit of peeping in second-story windows."  
  
"It's all about reading people," Varric explained, settling back in his chair. He folded his hands, only to unfold them a moment later in order to gesture with one of them. "Hawke's easy to read, really. I love the guy, and to be honest it works for him to wear his heart on his sleeve like he does." He shrugged. "Once you figure out what the jokes and sarcasm are covering up, he's not a very good liar."  
  
"Unlike certain other people," Fenris agreed, needling Varric but without any real heat.  
  
"Ha, ha." Despite the fake laugh, Varric gave a genuine smile. "You're tougher than he is. Not just physically, but on that deeper level. But that doesn't make you any less _feeling_ than he is. If anything, I think it makes you feel things a bit stronger sometimes. Like you spent enough time worrying about showing your emotions that when they come out now it's like an explosion you can't always contain."  
  
Fenris blanched at the assessment. It was difficult to refute Varric, but also a little intimidating that the man could figure out so much about his inner workings. Granted, considering how many years they had known each other... "Sometimes, yes. Anger is easier, of course. I spent so long being angry, I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to not be. But Hawke, he..." He hesitated and reached for his drink, just to hold it carefully in both hands and look down into its darkened depths. "Hawke was so different from anyone else I'd ever met. I wanted to hate him, to focus on his being a mage and wallow in my unending anger at the world. But he wouldn't let me."  
  
"I remember that," Varric said thoughtfully. "You were on your anti-mage tirade, and we'd seen you stab your damn arm through some poor sap's chest not too long before that, and what did Hawke do? Pulled some cheesy one-liner out of his ass like it was going to impress you."  
  
"I felt so stupid later for laughing," Fenris admitted, his cheeks burning even so many years later. "It was such a terrible line."  
  
"If it makes you feel any better, every one of us fell into the same trap," Varric pointed out. "We all ended up following him into the depths of the shitfest that went down in Kirkwall - just because Hawke has one of those magnetic personalities."  
  
"He does." Fenris lifted his cup to his lips and drained it. Setting it down, he fixed Varric with a piercing, bottle-green stare. "Regardless, I'd thank you to leave our relationship out of your future titles."  
  
"Don't worry." Varric lifted his glass in a mock salute. "Names will be changed to protect the innocent. And the not-so-innocent."


	20. Prompt #20: "You could talk about it, you know?"

**Prompt:** 20\. You could talk about it, you know?  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Tamvir Lavellan and Dorian Pavus), Kieris Mahariel  
**Warnings:** None  
  
Dorian had been mildly concerned when Tamvir hadn't been in his room that afternoon. He was agitated when Tamvir didn't appear at dinnertime. He was downright worried when the moon rose above the roofs of Skyhold and still the Inquisitor was away from his quarters.  
  
There had to be a logical explanation - a meeting had run long, or maybe he'd lost track of time listening to Varric's stories, or he was at the tavern with Krem and the Chargers. Dorian tried to focus on the logical rather than the fanciful, gruesome, and highly unlikely possibilities for why his amatus wasn't there. Unfortunately some of those unlikelies were just plausible enough to make Dorian have to swallow down his own thudding heart as he strode purposely around the keep.  
  
"Are you looking for the kid?"  
  
Dorian jumped as the shadow spoke to him. Swearing quietly under his breath, he turned to face Kieris properly. "_Kindly_ don't do that. Sneaking up on mages generally doesn't end well."  
  
Kieris sidled up to Dorian's side and gestured for him to follow. "Maybe not, but I'm willing to take that risk. But really, if you wanna talk to Tamvir, I know where he is."  
  
"You're forgiven," Dorian said quickly.  
  
Kieris laughed, but led the way out into the courtyard. "How good are you at climbing?" he asked, throwing a side-glance at Dorian's fashionable ensemble.  
  
Dorian sighed. "It's not my most favorite of hobbies, but there are certain things one must grow accustomed to for the sake of love." He followed gamely as Kieris headed up the stairs and out onto Skyhold's sturdy stone walls. "Is seeking out high places an elf thing?"  
  
"Is asking racist questions a Tevinter thing?" Kieris countered. Before Dorian could say anything to defend himself, the Hero of Ferelden waved a hand. "I'm sorry - a joke in bad taste. In seriousness: sometimes? It depends. Many Dalish scouts tend to spend a lot of time in trees on lookout duty, and when you're used to being off the ground it can feel more secure to find an elevated place when you're... out of sorts, I guess."  
  
They approached one of the corner towers, its side still half-crumbled in a tumble of large chunks of masonry. Dorian eyed it with trepidation. "You mean to tell me that climbing _that_ elicits a feeling of _safety_?"  
  
"Yes. How many people are brave enough to follow?" It was clear that this time, Kieris wasn't joking. "I found him up there this evening. Something's eating him, but I'm not sure what. He wouldn't tell me."  
  
"Thank you for showing me," Dorian said gratefully.  
  
Kieris nodded and began to head back down, calling, "Good luck!" over his shoulder.  
  
Steeling his resolve, Dorian approached the fallen stones. Where would be the best place to begin...?  
  
"Dorian, don't."  
  
When Dorian looked up, it was to the sight of Tam leaning over the edge of the roof. "What are you doing up there--?"  
  
"Give me a moment." Tam vanished again only to reappear seconds later. He nimbly scaled the rubble, skipping the last bit to simply hop down. "I don't want you getting hurt," he explained once he was safely back on more solid ground.  
  
"But it's alright if you risk breaking your neck just to find the highest point in Skyhold?" Dorian countered. "Tam, what's bothering you?"  
  
"It's..." Tam began, but stopped and shook his head. "It's nothing. I just needed a moment to gather my thoughts, that's all."  
  
"That's all?" Dorian echoed. "You're upset enough to find a whole new ridiculous place to hide, and you expect me to buy that?" He felt his worry turning into anger and stamped down on it as hard as he could. Rather than spitting angry words, he lowered his voice and said. "I'm here for you no matter what it is. If you ever just need someone to listen, you _could_ talk about it, you know? That sounds a sight better to me than sitting on a rooftop and wallowing."  
  
Tam's ears lowered, his bright eyes wide with unhappy emotions. "I'm sorry, Dorian. You're right." He hesitated a moment before reaching for Dorian's hand. "I'll tell you all about it. I promise. Do you want to go inside first?"  
  
"We have a nice, private spot to ourselves right here," Dorian said, waving his free hand. "You can sit on the battlements and I can hang onto you so you don't go plummeting to your horrific death, and you can tell me what's bothering you."  
  
That, at least, got a chuckle out of Tam. "Alright."


	21. Prompt #21: "Change is annoyingly difficult."

**Prompt:** 21\. Change is annoyingly difficult  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
Tamvir hated being the center of attention. Speaking to a crowd of people, of even just standing before them, was enough to make him simultaneously freeze up and want to run away and hide. Given his role as Inquisitor, it was a considerably difficult and potentially dangerous flaw for him to have.  
  
He was facing the biggest test of his short-lived career in only a few hours. It made him sick to think too hard about it, but he couldn't stop thinking about it either. It was a vicious cycle that was starting to send him into an unraveling spiral of panic.  
  
Tam paced his luxurious suite in Halamshiral, not paying attention to the lavish accommodations. His bare feet were nearly invisible as he criss-crossed the rich, plush carpets that covered the floors, his footsteps utterly silent. So absorbed was he in his own cocoon of rising anxiety that he didn't even notice when Dorian finally emerged from his several hours ensconced in the fancy en suite washroom.  
  
Recognizing the stiff, almost jittery way that Tam moved, Dorian waited for him to make his pivot at the other end of the room before sliding into step with him. Warm, manicured hands settled into their now-familiar places - one on Tam's hip, the other gently removing Tam's hand from where it was bunched up in his hair and just holding it. He turned Tam's pacing into the steps of a dance they had practiced.  
  
At first Tam tensed, tripping over his own feet, but it was only a small stumble before he was able to keep up with Dorian's lead. It was an easy, familiar rhythm. Coupled with Dorian's steadying presence, it helped loosen the spiral in which Tam had found himself so lost. "You look... wonderful," Tam finally said. Dorian suited the fancy setting, perfectly presented from his skillfully coiffed hair to the shining leather of his boots. Tam, on the other hand, was still dressed simply in a belted tunic and leggings.  
  
"So do you," Dorian replied with a lopsided smile. "Not exactly the height of Orlesian pomp, of course, but that has never stopped you from being absolutely riveting."  
  
Tam blushed scarlet and dropped his gaze to their feet. "I should get ready. Josephine will kill me if I don't look perfect for tonight." He hesitated, throwing off the tempo of their waltz and bringing it to a stuttered halt. "Creators. If I mess this up, it's a toss up between who will kill me first - Josephine or Leliana. I can't do this, Dorian. I just _can't_. I'm the worst possible person to be making grand speeches and declarations!"  
  
Dorian hooked a gentle finger under Tam's chin and silenced his worries with a kiss. It made every madly-swirling thought in Tam's head screech to a halt, bringing blessed silence while the important processes fought to return. He looked dazedly up at Dorian when they parted, a vague smile on his full lips. "What was that for?"  
  
"I thought it might help distract you. I was right, wasn't I?" Dorian shifted his hand in order to cup Tam's cheek instead, thumb grazing over the branching vallaslin under one eye. "_You_ are in control of what you do. Public speaking is clearly not your forte and you've been thrown to the metaphorical wolves with it, but you are learning and your skill is growing and changing every time you have to use it."  
  
Tam huffed a breath, scattering his bangs. "Change is annoyingly difficult."  
  
Dorian chuckled and leaned down for another stolen kiss. "I couldn't have said it better myself. Though speaking of change, as much as I enjoy you in casual wear you're quite right that Josephine would have strong words if you tried to give a speech in those clothes. Come with me - I've been dying to see you in something fashionable for ages and I'm not missing my chance."  
  
Tam smiled and let himself be pulled toward the washroom. He was still nervous; he would likely even still freeze and panic when the moment actually came. But at least for a short time he could breathe freely, wrapped up in the fizzy warmth of Dorian's presence and pushing aside thoughts of anything else.


	22. Prompt #22: "We could have a chance."

**Prompt:** 22\. We could have a chance  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins  
**Characters/Pairings:** ZevWarden (Zevran Arainai and Kieris Mahariel)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
Kieris walked over to the makeshift training dummy in order to pry his dagger out of the wooden core. His aim was true despite the turmoil of his thoughts - at least he still had his pride as a scout. A glance toward the heart of camp showed the little group of adventurers had settled in around the fire, supper still cooking but likely almost ready. Kieris's mabari was the only one out on the training ground with him, happily watching each exercise Kieris decided to put himself through.  
  
Training was a distraction. Eventually, Kieris knew, he would join the others at the fire and they would swap stories and maybe Leliana would sing, and he would pretend that nothing was bothering him. In truth, the little fact that Zevran had been avoiding him for the past couple days was gnawing at the back of Kieris's mind like a particularly stubborn rat. He'd tried to talk to him about it, but Zevran had been firm in not wanting to discuss it and Kieris had relented and given him his space. All that did was make him think about it that much more.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Kieris sheathed his daggers and whistled. "Come on, Davalin. Let's get some supper."  
  
The mabari trotting at his heels, Kieris headed to the fire and his little knot of companions. Everything went on like the world was normal and there was nothing strange happening between anyone at the fire. Kieris played his part well, even if he caught himself staring at Zevran on more than one occasion. It was doubtful that anyone except maybe Alistair was fooled, but it made Kieris feel a little better to pretend things were normal and not call attention to the shroud of awkwardness just waiting to smother him.  
  
He laughed. He joked. He made sly comments that made Alistair double-take and then facepalm. If Kieris avoided looking over at where Zevran sat flirting outrageously with Wynne and not-so-subtly helping Oghren get blackout drunk. Davalin, bless his traitorous soul, had his head buried in Zevran's lap and would every so often look over at Kieris and wag his whole body. It was endearing while at the same time making things that much more difficult.  
  
"You know, I didn't sleep too well last night," Kieris said as he got to his feet. It wasn't a complete lie; the nightmares were getting worse. Alistair had corroborated that much. "I think I'm gonna turn in early." Thankfully, using Warden issues dissuaded everyone from questioning too much. Kieris left behind the a ragged chorus of well-wishes and retreated to the quiet darkness of his tent, where he allowed himself a deep, cleansing breath.  
  
Whatever was going on, Zevran didn't want to talk about it. Maybe it was something Kieris had done, but maybe it had absolutely nothing to do with him. There was too much going on to get swept up in relationship issues - especially when the 'relationship' couldn't even be addressed with so grand a title, not to mention how he very well might die before his mission was through. He needed to focus on that mission: the incredibly intimidating, horrifying reality that if he and Alistair failed, the world as they knew it was likely to end.  
  
No pressure.  
  
Kieris stripped out of his leather shirt and sat on the edge of his cot, watching the play of firelight on the side of the tent. The movement of shadows caught his eye, so it came as no surprise when the figure that split off from the group got close enough to throw a proper silhouette on the canvas. Feeling his pulse jump, Kieris tried to recapture the relative peace from the moment before to no avail.  
  
"Kieris?"  
  
The way Zevran pronounced his name never failed to make Kieris want to smile. It was short-lived feeling, losing to the anticipation sparked by Zevran actually making a move that indicated finally wanting to talk. "I'm awake," Kieris replied, going to the tent flap and pushing it open in invitation. Once they were enclosed together in the small space, Kieris was almost certain his heartbeat was an audible thing. "What is it?"  
  
"I realize that I have been acting somewhat childish. If you still wish to talk...?" Zevran let the words hang, never quite finishing the question.  
  
"Of course I do. Why have you been avoiding me, Zev?" Kieris reached for Zevran's hands and clasped them in his own. He could feel the tension and reluctance in Zevran, and expected him to pull away. So when Zevran tugged one hand free, Kieris let go without argument.  
  
To Kieris's surprise, Zevran only brushed a lock of dark hair out of Kieris's face and took his hand again. "I would say I have not been avoiding you on purpose, but that would not be true. There have been certain things which I have needed to, shall we say, consider."  
  
"I know. Asking you to love me the way I l--" Kieris stopped himself, a brief look of panic crossing his face at his near slip. "The way I like you a lot. Yeah. I know that's a lot to ask, especially since I'm a Grey Warden and everything that comes along with that whole deal."  
  
Zevran tipped his head to the side thoughtfully. "I don't think I had quite considered that aspect," he admitted. "But I do not like the idea of losing you. Which I think means something, no?"  
  
"I think it means that we could have a chance. I don't really know what I'm doing any more than you do, but maybe together we could, uh... figure something out?" Kieris offered with an awkward smile.  
  
"I'm game." Zevran lifted both of Kieris's hands to his mouth, kissing the back of each. "And I can think of something we can do that doesn't need any 'figuring out', if you're interested?"  
  
Kieris pretended to consider, then grinned. "I think I could be persuaded."


	23. Prompt #23: "You can't give more than yourself."

**Prompt:** 23\. You can't give more than yourself  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris)  
**Warnings:** (Mild) injuries  
  
They were bruised and bloody, but they were alive and victorious as well, and that was what mattered in the end. It took an exceptionally long time just to get back home, Fenris limping and Hawke hissing every time one of his own stumbles or missteps jostled his dislocated shoulder. Fenris made no noises of complaint, but the harsh breathing Hawke could hear from him was a tell-tale sign of serious discomfort.  
  
"Once we get in, let me sit for just a minute and then I'll see what I can do," Hawke promised, gritting his teeth against a lance of pain that made his stomach lurch in response. He was utterly tapped out. If he hadn't been so drained, he would have made sure Fenris was patched up before they ever started walking. It made Hawke's chest ache to know that Fenris was hurting so much because he didn't have even enough magic left to light a candle.  
  
"Don't worry about me," Fenris said, his voice low and hoarse. "I can handle worse than this."  
  
"It's not a matter of handl--" Hawke's boot caught on a broken paving stone, but he caught himself before he could fall. His sudden, loud string of profanity could have stripped the paint off nearby houses. Fenris was by his side in an instant, helping Hawke up by his good arm and not letting him go. "Don't. You're just going to hurt yourself more."  
  
"Shut up," Fenris said firmly, his raw concern unmistakable. "Just let me do this."  
  
They made their way back to the house in the closest thing to silence that they could manage, Fenris doing his best to steady Hawke and Hawke doing everything he could to put as little of his weight on Fenris as possible. Crossing the threshold and hearing the solid way the door closed behind them elicited a relieved sigh in unison.  
  
Dog met them at the door, his happiness at their return quickly turning to worry. He whined and licked each of their hands before leading them to the sitting room and the waiting fireplace. He even went so far as to push Hawke's favorite chair closer to the warmth and then waited expectantly.  
  
"Thank you, Dog." Hawke didn't give the head scritches that usually accompanied praise, but Dog still lolled his tongue and looked proud of himself. "And thank you, Fenris." He sat down in the chair and pulled Fenris down with him to sit on his lap. It spoke volumes that Fenris didn't argue him on it. Cradling Fenris against his uninjured side, Hawke sagged in the chair and let his eyes close - just for a moment.  
  
Hawke wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. When he roused it was still dark, the fire burned down but still going. Fenris was snoring gently against the crook of Hawke's neck and Dog was comfortably curled on the rug in front of the fireplace. Stiff and aching, Hawke shifted slightly to try to carefully stretch his legs.  
  
The small movement woke Fenris, who came awake all at once and on high alert. But as soon as he tried to whip his head around to see his surroundings he groaned and leaned back into Hawke's good shoulder.  
  
"I agree," Hawke said, the words rough from sleep. "Sorry I woke you."  
  
"No, it's alright. I didn't mean to sleep, only close my eyes for a moment." His eyes focused up on Hawke's face, mouth turning down in a frown. "You're still injured."  
  
Hawke smiled. "So are you," he pointed out. "I was intending to do something about it. Do you mind if I try?"  
  
Fenris hesitated. He shifted so that he could sit up properly, still occupying Hawke's lap. "I worry about you overdoing it, Hawke. You can't give more than yourself, but you keep trying to do more than that."  
  
"I only want to do a little bit," Hawke explained. "Make it so you can walk without hurting yourself. Then I'll be a good patient and rest." He didn't elaborate on how much he'd spent versus how little the short nap had actually restored to him. Fenris was right, of course, that Hawke had a penchant for over-exerting. He couldn't rest properly knowing that someone was hurting, not when it was something he could do something about if he just put in the effort.  
  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Fenris sighed, but nodded slightly. "Fine. Only if you promise to rest after we set your shoulder."  
  
"I promise." Hawke helped Fenris adjust again, bringing his injured leg up within reach of Hawke's hands. He couldn't move the left, that shoulder being damaged as it was, but he could cup his right hand over Fenris's ankle and open himself to the magic that welled inside him. There was so little to draw on, just a little nimbus of energy that willingly flowed to the tips of his fingers and spilled over onto Fenris's skin. The lyrium there flared in response, a counterpoint of blue-white that slowly faded as the healing magic sank down into muscle and bone.  
  
The tension that had been in every breath Fenris took suddenly eased, telling Hawke that his efforts had been successful. His eyes closed and he smiled, even as the exertion headache began to throb from temple to temple. It was worth it.  
  
"Hawke," Fenris said, rousing Hawke from the half-doze he'd already slipped into. Fenris got to his feet, careful at first but then more steady when the earlier pain didn't manifest. "I need to set your shoulder before it gets worse. Then we can get some real rest."  
  
Groaning, Hawke acquiesced to opening his eyes. At first the room spun. Focusing in on Fenris, he was able to anchor his vision and keep things relatively steady. "This is going to be terrible."  
  
"Yes," Fenris said simply. It was clear that he was looking forward to it about as much as Hawke was. "But it needs to be done."  
  
Hawke gritted his teeth as Fenris manipulated his injured arm. His gaze never left Fenris's face, their eyes meeting the second before Fenris pulled the joint back into place. Hawke's resulting yowl was enough to send Dog halfway across the room looking for threats, his ears pinned back and his hackles raised. When he realized there was nothing attacking, he circled back to the chair and licked Hawke's good hand.  
  
The explosion of pain had been necessary, and already it was a massive improvement over how the shoulder had felt before. Once his vision came back, fighting against the darkness that ate around the edges, Hawke offered Fenris a wan smile. "I think I've had about enough fun for one night, how about you?"  
  
Fenris helped Hawke to his feet, smirking. "You must have, if you're wanting to go to bed just to sleep."  
  
"I'll make it up to you tomorrow," Hawke promised.


	24. Prompt# 24: "Patience… is not something I'm known for."

**Prompt:** 24\. Patience… is not something I'm known for  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
**Warnings:** A teeny bit spicy but nothing major  
  
There were many aspects of being the Inquisitor that Tamvir didn't enjoy. One of those was the absolutely baffling amount of bureaucratic bullshit he was expected to read through and sign on any given day. It oftentimes felt like no matter how many things he was able to get through, there was no way to stem the flow of the never ending fountain of political nightsoil. How Josephine was _happy_ to wade through the worst of it in order to sort out the things that genuinely needed Tam's attention, he had no idea.  
  
Tam leaned on his elbows over the latest proposal of a land dispute between two Orlesian nobles. One person with an indecipherable name was arguing against another person with an equally indecipherable name, claiming that blah blah, blah blah blah. Tam found himself dozing, his cheek pillowed on one fist, and shook himself awake. The pile waiting for him was interminable. He had to at least get through some of it before lunchtime - failure to do so would disappoint Josephine, and her 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' lectures were one of the things Tam never wanted to experience again if he could help it.  
  
Yet when Tam started awake again, barely halfway through the first page, the distant sound of footsteps on the tower stairs were a welcome distraction. His ears swiveled and he turned his head to better catch the sound, measuring the weight of each step and the length between them. He smiled, having a good idea who they belonged to, and returned to the paper before him. Feigning absolute absorption, he didn't look up when the door to his chambers opened and the footsteps continued, lighter and with at least a minimal attempt at stealth, up the last flight.  
  
Tam didn't have to see Dorian to know he was smiling as he walked over to the desk and slid in behind Tam. The arms that curled around his shoulders and the mouth that kissed a sudden warm trail down the side of his neck were welcome rather than startling. Had Tam actually been surprised, Dorian would have gotten the little yelp he seemed to enjoy hearing. Instead, Tam leaned back further against the back of the chair and into his embrace, one hand coming up to bury in Dorian's carefully-coiffed hair.  
  
"Have you been thinking about me as much as I've thought of you today?" Dorian asked between kisses, slowly working his way up to Tam's earlobe and sending a bone-deep shiver through him.  
  
"I've been waist-deep in disputes between Marquis de So-and-So and Duke What's-His-Name, the eloquent hand-wringing of Vicomtess She-of-Too-Many-Vowels, and more." It was a strange dichotomy, discussing painfully boring work while heat sparked and rushed through his veins. "Besides, Dorian... we've only been awake something like six hours, now. You can't possibly be that desperate."  
  
"Who says I can't?" Dorian countered, pausing a moment to look down at the papers stacked and waiting in Tam's inbox and wrinkle his nose. "That all sounds _incredibly_ boring, amatus. I'd like to propose something far more interesting."  
  
"Oh?" Tam stood up with Dorian's gentle prodding, allowing himself to be pulled away from the desk and spun almost like a dance so that he fetched up against Dorian's chest. "I have a lot of things still to get through," Tam pointed out, clasping his hands at the back of Dorian's neck and staying quite comfortably pressed against him. "You're going to have to be patient."  
  
"Patience is not something I'm known for," Dorian parried, leaning down to kiss him long and slow and sweet.  
  
When they parted, Tam grinned. "Really? Who was that gentleman, then, who never took advantage of me when I was drunk and shamelessly all over him?"  
  
Dorian's eyebrows lifted and he scoffed. "What? Oh, come now, do you think of me as some kind of barbarian? Being drunk is not consent. I'm many things, but even this 'evil Tevinter magister' is above such reproachable actions."  
  
"Alright, fair." Tam's thumbs caressed the soft spots just behind Dorian's ears, knowing exactly what he was doing to the man with it. "So then who was it who had enough respect for me to take a step back when I asked him to take things more slowly and to not push me faster than I could handle? That man had considerable amounts of patience."  
  
Dorian, his eyes hooded and a smile of his own threatening to break through his mock-offended facade, pursed his lips. "The key word there, you see, is _respect_. Though I suppose you do may have something of a point. Just don't go spreading that information around - you'll ruin my reputation."  
  
"I wouldn't dream of ruining your fake reputation," Tam promised. He moved his hands to Dorian's shoulders, an important signal before he hopped up and wrapped his legs around Dorian's waist. Dorian knew the leading gesture and caught him easily, leaning in to kiss him again while walking them both across the room to where Tam's massive four-post bed waited.  
  
"Maybe you should show me just how patient you can be," Tam suggested, whispered words brushing across Dorian's lips. "While I do everything I can to drive you wild."


	25. Prompt #25: "I could really eat something."

**Prompt:** 25\. I could really eat something  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
**Warnings:** Not really. Casual nudity?  
  
A tiny thread of guilt crept into Tamvir's fuzzy, sated afterglow, causing him to sigh and sit up. Dorian made a plaintive grunt of disagreement and pulled Tam back down. Cuddled up against Dorian's chest was vastly preferable to facing the paperwork Tam had readily allowed himself to be distracted from, but Tam knew the longer he waited the more disapproval he faced.  
  
"No, Dorian, I have to get up," Tam explained, reluctantly squirming from beneath Dorian's arm and to the edge of the thoroughly mussed bed. Dorian joined him a moment later.  
  
"I know that you're busy; the Inquisitor's work is never done and all that," Dorian said, his fingers idly combing through Tam's hair to straighten it. "I just happen to be terribly selfish."  
  
"You are not." Tam barely resisted leaning into Dorian's touch and snuggling up against him once again. Instead, he got to his feet and started picking up their various discarded articles of clothing. "I wanted this as much as you did, and the distraction was more than welcome. Were it not for the burning shame of Josephine's disappointment in me, I would gladly throw every paper on my desk off the balcony."  
  
"Wouldn't that be fun?" Dorian smiled, accepting his clothes as Tam passed to him. "The nobility would be absolutely _scandalized_ to have their grievances scattered to the wind like so much dirty laundry for anyone to pick up and see."  
  
"Be careful - if you say that around Sera, it might actually happen." Tam pulled on his tunic, re-tousling his coppery locks in the process. "I need to get at least halfway through that stack there before I can call myself done for the day. More would be better. But I can meet you downstairs for supper later, if you wanted to do anything. We could go watch Maryden at the tavern, or take a walk..."  
  
Dorian finally got up as well, dressing remarkably quickly considering his many straps and buckles. "I will never turn down the opportunity to spend time with you. In fact, I'm going to delay you even longer."  
  
"Dorian--"  
  
"If Josephine refuses to allow you a midday meal, she is a cruel taskmistress," Dorian continued as if Tam hadn't tried to speak. "Get back to your work as intended, and I'll go get us something from the kitchens."  
  
Tam couldn't argue. Well, he could have, but his stomach chose that moment to grumble its agreement and he grinned ruefully. "I suppose I could really eat something. Thank you, Dorian." Finishing dressing, Tam stood on tiptoe and Dorian leaned down to meet him for a kiss.  
  
"Do you think I'd really let you waste away up here? Perish the thought." Dorian kissed Tam's forehead as well before stepping away. "Go see about whatever is worrying the Vicomtess She-of-Too-Many-Vowels this time. I'll return shortly."  
  
Tam went back to his desk, listening to Dorian's steps growing fainter as he descended the tower. The work didn't seem quite as daunting now. He picked up the previously abandoned pages and set to really focusing on what the squabble was all about. It helped to have a goal to work toward; even better to have someone waiting at the finish line.


	26. Prompt #26: "You keep me warm." (nsfw)

**Prompt:** 26\. You keep me warm  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris)  
**Warnings:** Explicit sexual content  
  
There were pros and cons to having quarters set well away from the main areas of Skyhold. It took extra time to go anywhere or get back to the room, and the casements of the windows let in cold air when the wind blew, but it was away from where visitors might find themselves. It was private.  
  
Privacy was very important to Hawke. Not only did it keep the 'Champion of Kirkwall' out of the limelight, but it also meant fewer people could potentially be walking around outside when things were noisier on the interior of the chambers.  
  
The bed squeaked, its frame and springs protesting the rhythmic activity of its occupants. A gust of winter wind rattled the windows and filtered through to cool sweat-sheened skin, not that its efforts were actively noticed. Hawke and Fenris were far too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to the weather.  
  
The moaned melody that soared over the percussion was swallowed by unending kisses, wanton and sloppy with lust. Fenris's fingers plunged into Hawke's hair, the short nails of his other hand digging into the tanned skin of Hawke's back as if to drag him closer and urge him deeper. Not that Hawke required any such provocation. Hawke felt the same hunger; the need to cling and grab, to take what he wanted and give everything all at once.  
  
As Hawke thrust forward into him, Fenris locked his ankles at the small of Hawke's back. Hawke rumbled his approval and sat back on his heels, pulling Fenris along with him. It completely changed the angle, giving Fenris more control to drive himself down on Hawke's length while Hawke continued to rock his hips in the staccato slap of flesh. Leaving the sanctuary of Hawke's mouth, Fenris's kisses found the swell of his Adam's apple and settled there, nipping at delicate skin with tender restraint that was a sharp contrast to how hard Fenris rode him.  
  
Hawke's hands gripped Fenris's hips, ramping up to match him stroke for stroke. He could feel the way his own body tightened, heat throbbing through him like a second heartbeat and drawing his sac taut. "Fenris," he gasped, the word as reverent as a prayer.  
  
Fenris held on, a drowning man clinging to safety, as he and Hawke quickly became wilder, even more primal and frantic as they rocketed toward release. The lightest skim of Hawke's fingers against the head of Fenris's cock was enough to make him tremble and squirm, his own fingernails biting deeper and anchoring him against Hawke. His breathless moans found the join of Hawke's neck and shoulder as a muffling point, the sounds becoming a guttural cry when Hawke shuddered and came apart within him.  
  
Thick ropes of white found Hawke's torso when Fenris bucked and buckled and came as well, nearly decorating Hawke's skin in a similar pattern to Fenris's before they started to drip. They clung together, panting, until Hawke nuzzled against Fenris's face to capture his mouth once more. This time was far more gentle; a slow and loving appreciation.  
  
The insistent wind rattled the window again, snaking freezing tendrils through the heated air and this time finding a less distracted mark. Fenris shivered as Hawke moved to lay him back down on the bed.  
  
"Are you cold?" Hawke asked, running his hands up Fenris's sides. The light in the room was fading as the marks in Fenris's skin went dark and dormant, leaving only the fireplace to stave off the night.  
  
"Perhaps a little. Will you keep me warm?" Fenris kept hold of Hawke, pulling his warm body down atop his own.  
  
"Gladly." Hawke grinned in the darkness, the expression audible. "And as many times as you want."


	27. Prompt #27: "Can you wait for me?"

**Prompt:** 27\. Can you wait for me?  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** Garrett Hawke and Isabela (FenHawke implied)  
**Warnings:** Light spiciness. One star.  
  
"Do you mean to tell me that you really aren't getting _any_?" Isabela asked incredulously, uncrossing her long legs in order to lean forward and stare at Hawke in astonishment. "_You_? Surely the Champion of Kirkwall could fill his bed with anyone he happened to fancy." She raised her eyebrows and a smirk alighted on her generous lips. "Unless..."  
  
"Isabela," Hawke said warningly. He knew where she was leading. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed and gave in. Better to talk about it now, in the privacy of her room at the Hanged Man, than to have her bring it up around everyone else later. "It's really not that big of a deal. _Things_ happened, yes, but they aren't anymore. Not right now. He asked for his space and I'm giving it to him."  
  
Isabela snorted and crossed her legs once more. "Were you _that_ bad?"  
  
"I asked him the same question." Hawke grinned briefly, but soon succumbed back to his more sober expression. The subject was still too raw. "That wasn't it. There are parts of it that aren't my reasoning to tell, honestly, but I assure you it had nothing to do with prowess."  
  
"So what's to stop you from getting that itch scratched someplace else?" Leaning back in her seat, Isabela crossed her arms beneath her bosom - a trick, Hawke knew nearly as well as she did, that accentuated her already ample assets. "I can't imagine Fenris as the type to say 'can you wait for me and stay celibate while I try to figure my traumatic shit out?' or anything of the sort. He'd want you to be properly taken care of."  
  
"I'm sure you're well acquainted with every filthy corner of Kirkwall where I could 'get the itch scratched'," Hawke pointed out, earning a smirk and a shrugged agreement. "Thing is, I don't really feel much of a need."  
  
Isabela snorted and Hawke lifted his hands in surrender.  
  
"Alright, yes, there's a definite need. But it's a specific need, and the Blooming Rose isn't about to be able to meet it for me. Don't give me that look!" he exclaimed, watching how Isabela rolled her eyes as he tried to explain. "It comes down to the fact that I'm in love with Fenris. Whether he decides this is the end for us permanently or walks into my home tomorrow and pins me against the wall, I find myself only really wanting _him_."  
  
Isabela rose from her seat, hips swaying provocatively as she walked over to Hawke and slid easily into his lap. One hand rested on his hip, the other sneaking through the overlap of his shirt in order to tickle her fingertips in his chest hair. "Really? You wouldn't want anyone else?" she asked in a warm, husky voice.  
  
Hawke sighed and gestured with open palms. "From that position it should be rather obvious, I would think." Isabela was a beautiful woman, and one who Hawke had had a number of delicious fantasies about in years past, but here with her cleavage in his face and her ass flush with his thighs, he found himself lacking that spark that had required the attention of his hand so many times before. "I appreciate the, er... is this an offer, or a test?"  
  
"Yes," Isabela answered vaguely. She didn't seem upset at Hawke's lack of reaction, though she was more thoughtful than usual. Looking down into his face, she removed her teasing hands and brushed Hawke's messy hair back. "You're a good man, Hawke," she murmured and kissed the center of his forehead. "Fenris is incredibly lucky."


	28. Prompt #28: "Enough! I heard enough."

**Prompt:** 28\. Enough! I heard enough  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins  
**Characters/Pairings:** ZevWarden (Zevran Arainai and Kieris Mahariel), Alistair Theirin  
**Warnings:** Mature content. Spicy insinuations.  
  
For being made of thick canvas and being waterproof and mostly windproof, the tents they all used when making camp did absolutely nothing to keep out sound. Alistair pulled his blanket over his head in an attempt to muffle at least _some_ of the very unwanted noises coming from the next tent over.  
  
A ringing slap, followed by a muffled groan and some murmured words in another language. Probably Antivan. Alistair swore under his breath at the fact that he was even attempting to discern what language was being spoken when he didn't want to hear any of it in the first place.  
  
At least bedrolls didn't squeak or thump like a traditional bed. It was more than enough to hear the smack of flesh against flesh whenever Zevran's and Kieris's voices were miraculously silent. There were many things Alistair had no need or want of knowing, but the knowledge was gifted to him anyway.  
  
"Angh, Zev! Fuck!"  
  
Like the way Kieris sounded deep in the throes of passion. Battle? Sure. Passion? No. Alistair moved his pillow so that it covered his head, hoping the extra layers of fabric and feathers would augment the blanket.  
  
"You want me to let you come, mi amor?" Zevran asked. Alistair whined and crammed the pillow harder against his ear. "Perhaps I enjoy watching the way you squirm. And feeling it, too. You clench so hard around me whenever I do this..."  
  
Kieris gasped, and Alistair heard him babbling - begging, judging by the few words Alistair regrettably made out.  
  
It was disturbingly easy to follow their progress, to know precisely when each of them stood teetering at his brink. Alistair's head ached with how desperately he tried to block his ears, but it did nothing to drown out the sound of both of their climaxes. At least that meant it was over. That meant they would go to sleep, and thus he could sleep, and everything would be fine. It would be fine.  
  
They spoke in hushed tones, in whispers and murmurs that blended with the rustles of the trees. Alistair relaxed, exhaustion from the day combining with his newly-acquired tension to make the much-desired sleep start to overtake him quickly.  
  
But that was shattered when Kieris laughed and Zevran made a sharp little "Ooh!"  
  
"Enough!" Alistair shouted. "I've heard enough! Maker's breath, _go to sleep_."  
  
The sounds from the other tent had stopped completely. A tense few seconds passed before Kieris gave a quiet, "Sorry, Alistair."


	29. Prompt #29: "I'm doing this for you."

**Prompt:** 29\. I'm doing this for you  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** Carver Hawke and Merrill (Carver/Merrill)  
**Warnings:** None  
  
It was a modest house, really, but it had everything it needed. Honestly, Garrett had done his very best to make sure that Carver was far from the fighting but still comfortable. Not that Carver intended to _stay_ away from the fighting. He was going to take advantage of the opportunity to gather some information and then head right to the Inquisition's headquarters.  
  
A loud clatter from the kitchen shook Carver out of his thoughts. "Is everything alright in there?" he called, getting to his feet.  
  
"It's- everything is fine, really!" Merrill called back. She sounded flustered. "I only dropped the spoon. And it caught the other one on the way down. So it's a bit of a mess, I suppose, but it's fine! I'll get it cleaned up."  
  
Merrill's clumsiness was as endearing as it was exasperating. Carver rubbed a hand through his hair and chuckled. "Are you sure you don't need a hand?"  
  
"No! Er, no. Thank you. I'm doing this for you, after all - wouldn't that be silly if I didn't do it myself?" There was another clamor, but this one preceded the distinctive sound of glass shattering and a loud, "Oh, for the love of--!" from Merrill.  
  
There was no stopping Carver this time. He rushed into the kitchen to assess the damage, only to stop short at the entryway. Glass shards, most of them coated in some sort of red sauce, scattered outward in a starburst of destruction. The sauce was halfway up the walls and cabinets as well, and Carver even distinctly saw the glimmer of a glass fragment lodged firmly in the tea towel hanging by the oven. Seeing that Merrill was unhurt, he stifled an impulsive laugh and picked his way carefully through the carnage to get to her side.  
  
"Well, It does look like you've been enduring quite the, er, cooking battle," he said, unable to keep the grin from his face.  
  
"Ooh!" Merrill stomped her foot, making a secondary little tinkle as tiny bits shook free from her leggings. "May the Dread Wolf take you!" Her anger was directed at the stove, where whatever remained of her efforts sat.  
  
Gods, but she was cute when she was angry. Carver's boots crunched as he reached her side, and before she could stamp her bare feet again he scooped her up into his arms. "Let's get you out of here before you get hurt," he suggested. "Once I've got the glass taken care of maybe you can show me what you were trying to do? I know you wanted to cook for me, but I think it could be more fun for you to teach me instead."  
  
"I've made a mess of things again, haven't I?" Merrill asked sadly. She didn't fight being carried over to the door and set on the clean floor outside, just twisted a bit of her tunic between her two hands and looked down to her sauce-spattered toes.  
  
"Yes," Carver said bluntly. It would be too bald-faced a lie to tell her otherwise. "But you know, that keeps me on my toes. Makes life interesting." He touched her chin with his index finger, and when she automatically looked up at him he kissed her nose. "I love how you make my life interesting on a daily basis."


	30. Prompt #30: "I'm with you, you know that."

**Prompt:** 30\. I'm with you, you know that  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
**Warnings:** None

Of course they couldn't have the meeting at Skyhold. The Inquisitor's relationship with a man from Tevinter was contentious, but grudgingly accepted by most. The arrival of anyone else from Tevinter, especially an actual Magister, would cause more uproar than Tamvir, Josephine, or anyone else in the inner circle wanted to deal with. Dorian in particular had very little desire to deal with anything related to Magister Halward Pavus.

Eventually Dorian had, with clear resentment to having to do so, consented to meet once again as they had before in Redcliffe. He had even acquiesced to Tam's request to come with him. Tam doubted it had anything to do with his ability to actually _do something_ should Magister Halward make any moves to do something untoward. The only thing he had going for himself was his title and whatever weight it carried.

The descent from Skyhold had been quiet, Dorian not having much desire to chat and Tam not wanting to push him. They'd even ridden separately; Tam on his mount and Dorian on a horse borrowed from the stables. It was strange to not have the simple closeness of riding double.

As much as Tam wanted to give Dorian his space, to respect his need for solitude, he desperately wanted to know what was going on inside Dorian's head. Dorian was always there for him; it felt wrong that Tam wasn't able to offer the same sort of comforting shoulder to lean on.

"Dorian--" Tam started.

"So--" Dorian said at the same moment.

Tam couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, and hearing the same from Dorian gave him a warm little fizzle of relief. "You first."

"I was just thinking how similar this is to the last time we did this," Dorian admitted. "Though hopefully this time I act like less of a complete ass toward you."

"You were scared and angry and you lashed out, Dorian." Tam shook his head. "I don't blame you for how you acted then." He smiled, blushing, and looked down at his hands holding the reins. "You've more than made up for it."

Dorian's laughter was worth every fragment of Tam's embarrassment from saying the words. It thawed more of the ice that had been clogging the space between them.

"Let's perhaps _not_ go telling that little fact to my father," Dorian suggested, his mirth fading back into seriousness. At least he wasn't as tense as he'd been before. Tam had to find silver linings everywhere he could.

"Definitely not." The last thing Tamvir wanted to do was go discussing his and Dorian's relationship in detail, especially with someone who frowned on it even more than the Chantry sisters. "But whatever this is about, whatever he wants... I'm with you, Dorian. I hope that you always know that."

Dorian nudged his horse in closer, getting their two mounts to walk side by side and allowing him to reach out a hand that Tam clasped. "I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't with you. At the risk of sounding dreadfully sentimental, with you at my side there is nothing I can't do."

Tam smiled and gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. "Including travel through time," he pointed out. "I don't think I'll ever forget that."

"How could either of us?" Dorian quipped, then shuddered. "We're all lucky that I am as brilliant as I am handsome. A lesser mage never would have been able to get us out of that mess."

Tam didn't need to call Dorian on his exaggeration. They both knew how utterly terrified he'd been in that instant with everything riding on his shoulders. But it had been the first instance where they had needed to trust each other implicitly, and that success had eventually led them to where they were now. What was dealing with family, when they had already faced down so much?

"You're right," Tam said instead. "I truly am the luckiest man in all Thedas."


	31. Prompt #31: "Scared, me?"

**Prompt:** 31\. Scared, me?  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
**Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris)  
**Warnings:** None

"Fenris!"

Fenris immediately threw his book aside at the panicked tone of Hawke's yell. It went flying off the roof and down into the courtyard, but Fenris couldn't be bothered to care where it landed. He scrambled down from the roof to the walkway and burst through the door of their shared Skyhold quarters.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, already reaching for the massive sword he'd left leaning on the wall just inside the room.

Hawke was not a small man. He had considerable muscle considering his true strength lay in magic, which combined with his height and the sheer force of his personality made him seem like a giant. It was strange indeed to see him curled up small and wedged down between the bed and the wall. Fenris hefted the sword and scanned the room for whatever the threat could be.

"It's up _there_," Hawke finally said, pointing to the far corner. "Can you get a handkerchief or a shoe or something?"

The adrenaline that had been thrumming through Fenris abruptly subsided and he scowled. "Hawke." The sword was returned to its place of rest and its elven owner crossed his arms. "Please tell me you didn't just interrupt my peaceful afternoon in order to have me kill a spider for you."

"What? No, no, of course not." Hawke forced a laugh, waving his hand as if to chase away a fly. "I would never do such a thing. But since you're here I don't suppose you'd be willing to lend a hand?"

The gesture of pinching the bridge of his nose and then rubbing his eyes was one that Fenris had picked up from Aveline. According to her, she usually did it while counting to ten as a way to calm herself whenever Hawke did something absurd. "Fine."

Fenris stormed over to the indicated corner and scaled the table in order to get up high enough to see. Sure enough, there was a spider roughly the size of an Orlesian caprice coin crouched and staring from the relative safety of the ceiling. With a roll of his eyes as accompaniment, Fenris simply reached up and coaxed the arachnid into the palm of one hand. Behind him, he heard Hawke's strangled gasp of horror and had to bite his lip not to grin.

"Is this really what has you so scared?" Fenris asked casually, hopping down off the table while the spider scuttled over one hand and onto the other that he quickly set in front of it. He had to do it multiple times as he sauntered back toward Hawke, who looked like he was attempting to meld with the stone of the wall and ultimately pass through it. "It's just a little spider."

"Scared?" Hawke echoed, his voice breaking into a squeak. "Me? Perish the thought." As Fenris got closer, his voice wasn't the only thing to break. "GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!"

Fenris couldn't help it. He laughed. "Of course you aren't scared. Silly me." He turned on his heel and escorted the spider out the door, releasing it onto the branch of a nearby tree. Brushing the webbing off on his trousers, he returned to where Hawke was sitting with his head buried in his hands.

"Don't worry. You know I'll always keep you safe from the big, bad spiders," Fenris promised.


End file.
